


The Boy With The Green Eyes

by rubycrowned



Series: And Through Your Eyes (I See The One I Wish I Was) [1]
Category: 1D - Fandom, One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform, lourry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubycrowned/pseuds/rubycrowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had green eyes, so I wanted to sleep with him...You could drown in those eyes, I said</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy With The Green Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot based off of part of Richard Siken's 'Little Beast', because green eyes and the fact that I haven't written a Louis/Harry centred fic in forever. Un-beta'd so sorry for mistakes. Um...yup.

His eyes were green.

And Louis would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little tipsy at that point, but when he saw those eyes - framed by a brown mop of curls and a grin which seemed to stretch almost comically wide - he could have sworn he was being drawn closer.

As he made his way across the room, shouldering past or around the several people obscuring his path, he couldn’t stop the feeling of just how weird this was from flitting across his mind. Louis didn’t usually get affected like this by people.  _He_  was the charming one, the one that flattered left right and centre, manufactured instant chemistry with anyone and everyone.

And this didn’t feel like chemistry, anyway. They hadn’t even spoken a word yet.

No. This was like gravity. Physics. Immoveable and unshakeable.

God, maybe Louis shouldn’t have finished off the last of Zayn’s joint for him.

Up close, the boy’s curls looked even softer, and Louis really wanted to reach a hand to touch it, to see what it felt like to knot it around his fingers.

The other boy must have caught him staring (not hard since Louis’ was less than a foot away) because he hears a low chuckle and Louis dragged his eyes downward until they were torn between those green orbs and the puffy red lips which had begun to move, to form words which Louis was pretty sure he should be paying attention to.

“Hi there. ‘M Harry.”

Louis’ wanted to fuck him.

Because the voice that just spoke to him wasn’t the one he expected to hear; it was deep and gravelly and just a little mischievous and sent tingles all the way down Louis’ spine. The syllables were unrushed and drawn out; lazy, but in a good, considering way. And the way his tongue darted out to brush his lower lip, before biting down absently on it, waiting for some sort of response, was simply obscene. This boy should have come with a warning.

“Louis.”

The introduction was accompanied by his trademark grin and a (mostly) coordinated little bow, with a flourish of his hand which definitely did not fall tantalizingly close to the other boy’s crotch; although it was enough to distract him for another moment.

“Louis,” and there was a smile to his voice as the boy – Harry – repeated his name, testing it out; Louis liked the way it sounded on Harry’s tongue, “And what can I do for you, Louis?”

Another time, Louis might’ve shown Harry right then and there, party raging on around them, what it was he could do for him as they stood by the door to the kitchen in some friend of a friend’s flat. Another time, Louis might’ve kissed those lips until Harry’s eyes had fluttered closed and he had entwined their fingers together, before tugging him towards the closest unoccupied room.

But as confident and tempting as this Harry appeared – spit-slick lips and sparkling, laughing eyes; joking, insinuating tone and cocky posture, leaning against the doorframe – there was something about him that gave Louis pause. Not to make him hesitate exactly - Louis still wanted to screw this boy into next Tuesday - but there was something different about him.

It was in the way his hand twitched slightly against the opposite arm, crossed loosely in front of him, taking in the sight of Louis. In the half rolled-up sleeve of his t-shirt which Louis had to stop himself from fixing. And it was in the lightest of flushes which highlighted his cheekbones against his pale skin under Louis’ intense gaze. They betrayed the fact that Harry wasn’t quite as sure of Louis’ attention as he’d like to pretend to be.

Louis leaned in closer, crowding Harry until he could feel the taller boy’s sharp exhale, warm on Louis’ face.

“I would like you,” he raised himself up slightly on his toes, until his mouth was hovering close to Harry’s ear, “to HAVE A DRINK WITH ME!”

Louis pulled back with a peal of laughter at the shock on Harry’s face, brandishing whichever bottle of liquor he’d managed to swipe from the kitchen bench while Harry was otherwise distracted. He glanced away from Harry, now rubbing his ear - which was probably ringing from Louis shouting directly into it – and scowling. He somehow instinctually knows that he’s not actually upset with Louis, more likely annoyed that he let himself be fooled by his trick, so, rather than feeling guilty, Louis instead checked out what it was they were apparently going to be drinking; a fairly empty bottle of rum. Not Louis’ best haul, but it’d do.

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to give you a fright but you are clearly not drunk enough right now. So here,” Louis handed Harry the unscrewed bottle, disregarding the raised eyebrow directed at him and grinned cheekily back, “Bottom’s up.”

Louis very determinedly didn’t stare at the pale length of Harry’s throat as the other boy obediently knocked back a couple of shots worth of alcohol; he was far too busy focusing on the way his lips were wrapped around the top of the bottle. As Harry brought his head back down to level a look with Louis, releasing the rum bottle with a wet  _pop_ , Louis could’ve sworn the kid was messing with him.

But then they were in the centre of the room, thick with people, all jumping and swaying and moving with the heavy bass beat of the music pumping through the flat. They were forced into each other’s space (not that Louis particularly opposed this intrusion); Harry’s white tee glowed slightly in front of him under the dull light coming from the hall and kitchen – someone had flicked the main light off at some point, perhaps in an attempt to set the mood for the makeshift dance floor.

The shadows somehow only seemed to accentuate Harry’s features, the planes of his chest under his shirt; and then Louis realised – now he could touch. He could wrap his fingers around slim hips, use Harry’s belt loops to pull him forward and close – all under the guise of dancing. Harry, to his credit, looped his arms over Louis’ shoulders, interlocking his fingers behind Louis’ head; he circled his hips forward just enough to make Louis gasp, biting down the groan that threatened to follow.

Now that Harry was standing straight, rather than leaning, the height difference between them became more apparent, and Louis repressed the instinct to wrinkle his nose as curls tickled his face when Harry lowered his head to breathe into Louis’ ear.

“You know,” he muttered conspiratorially, “I  _know_  you didn’t have any of that rum you handed me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk.”

He laughed throatily into Louis’ shoulder before pulling back just enough for Louis to see his expression. It was just enough time for Louis to school his own; he was stuck for a moment on Harry’s comment –  _if I didn’t know better_ – because Louis had literally met this boy less than thirty minutes ago and yet.

And yet Louis sort of didn’t doubt that maybe Harry did know more about him than most.

Not that he’d let Harry know that.

“I think you’ll find I did say that I just thought  _you_  weren’t drunk enough, young Harold,” he informed Harry, tapping him lightly on the nose as he spoke, aim mostly correct, “ _I_ , on the other hand, am plenty drunk enough already.”

Louis leaned forward until they were only an inch or two apart; his eyes glazed over a little as he found himself unable to focus on anything other than Harry’s barely-parted lips. He could almost have been thought to be talking to himself when he added thoughtfully, “And we certainly couldn’t risk me not remembering tonight, could we?”

But then he shook his head lightly and his beaming grin returned and the spark was back in his eyes as he winked up at Harry, giving his bum a cheeky pinch. And when the song finished, Louis yanked on one of the unruly curls – reluctantly letting it go to link hands with Harry – and asked, “You want to go get some fresh air?”

***

They wandered down the empty street at a leisurely pace; the noise of the party as distant a backdrop as the traffic further ahead, where the main road lay. Louis’ hand sort of itched to feel the rough warmth of Harry’s palm against his own again, but the other boy was loping ahead, dancing ridiculously to some tune heard only in his head. On another night Louis probably would have joined him but, while the high hadn’t exactly worn off in the crisp late summer-night air, he was quite content to simply walk a few paces behind and enjoy the view.

They’d left pretty quickly after Louis’ suggestion; he’d found Zayn easily enough and had let him know that he was ditching the party while Harry did the same with whoever he’d turned up with. Zayn had apparently met someone himself, a puppy-faced someone Zayn introduced as Liam (and didn’t he just look like someone Zayn was going to break and destroy into little pieces), so he wasn’t too bothered; he simply clapped Louis on the shoulder as he left Zayn to his wooing, hollering a “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” to Louis’ retreating back, who snorted and raised a hand to flip him off without turning his head.

Harry met him outside a minute or two later; he’d managed to hunt down one of his roommates but had given up on finding the other when he’d started to worry Louis would’ve left him for a better offer.

“Nonsense,” Louis had smiled at him, ruffling his hands through the messy curls, and god if that wasn’t becoming addictive quick. Harry had said it jokingly, but there was a tint of something in his tone that made Louis leap to reassure him that no, tonight there was no one else but Harry that could possibly do.

They had talked about everything and nothing; studies, where home was, favourite flavour of ice-cream. They had debated intensely which was the best Harry Potter book and skirted the subject of family. Louis doggedly ignored the voices nagging at the back of his mind; both the one that said that this was about as far from a one-night shag as possible without taking the lad out for dinner and buying him goddamn flowers; and the one which kept telling him to take this all in, because this one was special, but it wouldn’t last – they never lasted, no point pretending otherwise – so savour it while he could.

He eventually moved ahead of Harry when they reached a corner and Harry slowed to swing around a lamp post. Louis spun around to walk backwards while facing him, but stopped on the street when Harry paused too, still hanging off the post and biting his lower lip.

“What is it, Curly?” Louis stepped back towards Harry, “Out with it then.”

It was probably the shyest Louis had seen him; it might have been lingering beneath the surface, but this was someone who had quite shamelessly serenaded the man in the chip shop they’d stopped in until he threatened to call the cops, at which point they had grabbed their orders and not-quite ran.

Harry shrugged slightly and said, attempting nonchalance, “Nah, just, my place is just down there if you wanna…whatever.”

“ _Hazza_. Are you propositioning me?” His tone was mock scandalised and Louis was pleased to see Harry roll his eyes, already used to Louis’ melodramatic state of being. Louis was not quite back in Harry’s personal bubble, giving him enough space to back out if he wanted, but hopefully letting him know that Louis was in no way turning him down.

Harry looked at Louis carefully through his eyelashes, but his mouth had tugged up into a grin.

“Maybe.”

“Good,” Louis immediately linked his arm through Harry’s, “I thought for a second I was going to have to drag you home myself.”

Harry only looked at him with an amused smirk – although directly under the street light Louis could see a pleased blush spreading across his face – but Louis was having none of it.

“Well, hurry up and lead the way. I think the alcohol’s wearing off; ‘s getting cold.”

***

“Nice place.”

It wasn’t actually that great, but for a student place it was decent enough; close to the university and almost impressively tidy from what Louis could see in his quick once over while Harry shut the door behind them.

Harry looked as though he might have had a response to that, but as he stepped further into the room, Louis quickly silenced him with a kiss. It was short, and mostly chaste, but it shut Harry up and Louis looked up at him with a smirk.

“I really couldn’t care less what you had to say right at the minute. And seeing as I’ve wanted to do that all night, hows about we quit messing around and you give me the grand tour. And by grand tour I mean your bedroom. Unless you want to just do it right here, which I am also completely game for, but-”

This time it was Harry’s turn to cut Louis off mid-sentence, sealing their mouths together with more force than the first time and walking him backwards, in the direction of what Louis believed to be the group of doors he’d spotted earlier.

“Shut up, Lou,” Harry muttered as he broke off for air, moving to mouth his way along Louis’ jaw, rough with stubble. He spun them around so he could open the door, presumably to his room - avoiding a painful door-knob-to-the-kidney for Louis - then pulled him through the doorway by the hand still wrapped around the back of Louis’ neck.

Louis didn’t really give a damn about the room he was in, past noticing the bed in the centre of it; he prodded Harry towards it with fingers to his shoulders until the other boy had fallen back and was lying down on it, propped up by his elbows and leering up at Louis, standing between his legs.

Louis nudged at the hem of Harry’s tee; he got the idea pretty quickly and sat up so he could pull it over his head before leaning back once more, giving Louis an impressive display of skin and muscle. In the meantime, Louis had done the same, so when he climbed onto the bed, straddling Harry, to lick into his mouth and tangle his fists in his hair, the skin on skin contact made them both gasp into the kiss after the night of anticipation. Harry had bucked his hips up in response, and Louis felt the hard line of Harry’s erection pressing into his hip, still trapped under layers of clothes.

He tugged on his handful of curls, pulling Harry’s head back to expose the long column of his neck. Louis could feel Harry’s groan reverberate against his lips as he sucked a line of marks down his throat; a memory for later. Louis released his grip in order to explore the smooth expanse of chest before him as he continued his trail downwards; he fluttered his hands across Harry’s ribs, feeling the indents between them while he teasingly grazed his teeth over his left nipple, making Harry moan; he was so sensitive to every touch, and Louis planned on taking full advantage of that fact. Licking across his abs, Louis noted two extra nubs, a fact he lodged away in the back of his mind, certain he could find an occasion for teasing him about them. Preferably not in the middle of this though.

This time Harry’s hands were tangled in Louis’ hair as he bit a final mark onto Harry’s hipbone, while sure hands deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Harry eagerly raised his hips when Louis yanked his trousers down, along with his pants, freeing his cock; Louis stood back off the bed to pull them off Harry’s legs completely, staring down at the already debauched-looking lad and feeling his own stiffened dick straining against his far too-tight jeans before he knelt back down between Harry’s spread legs and hitched him closer by the backs of his knees.

Harry’s cock stood tall and red, curling up towards his stomach. Pre-come beaded at the head and Louis ran his thumb over the slit, collecting it to swipe down the length of Harry’s dick, lessening the friction. Harry thrust his hips in the air reflexively so, as Louis jacked him slowly, he braced a pre-emptive arm over Harry’s hips, before raising himself onto his knees and taking the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking gently.

He smiled up at Harry when he groaned in frustration; Louis had pulled off to lick teasingly around the head and up the vein on the underside, not giving enough pressure to really get him off. Eventually, Louis took pity on him, taking him down and hollowing his cheeks as he bobbed his head, steadily working more of Harry’s cock into his mouth. When Harry’s whimpers of arousal started to become too much for his own self-control, Louis narrowed his eyes in a question to Harry – they had more or less watched each other the whole while, and the intensity of Harry’s stare had sent shivers to the base of Louis’ spine – who bit his lip and nodded, fisting his hands in the bed covers. Satisfied by the unspoken promise, Louis removed the restraining arm from Harry’s torso, trusting him to remain still, and moved to flick his own trousers open, palming himself through his boxers and humming in pleasure around Harry’s dick.

Louis’ other hand had remained surrounding the base of Harry’s cock, stroking what his mouth couldn’t take and squeezing firmly whenever Harry started to get a bit too excited. But then he removed that hand too, throat muscles relaxed enough that his nose almost nudged into the end of Harry’s happy trail. His spit and pre-come slick fingers trailed down, brushing lightly past Harry’s balls until they circled his tight hole. When Louis put some pressure on the ring of muscle - not enough to enter him, not yet - Harry couldn’t control himself; he thrust up to fuck Louis’ mouth, probably would have choked him a little if Louis hadn’t already started to pull off with an obscenely wet sound, his self-satisfied smirk firmly in place as Harry whined at the loss of heat.

Shucking the remains of his own clothes, Louis shimmied his way back up the bed; his cock swiped a slick trail across Harry’s abdomen as it dragged against skin when he leaned down to press a messy kiss to Harry’s open mouth. Harry nuzzled nose and teeth into Louis’ collarbone, leaving his own mark on Louis’ previously unmarred skin, and reached between them to give Louis’ neglected dick some much needed attention.

Louis was losing focus, blurred at the edges by the remnants of alcohol and the buzz which seemed to radiate out from every touch Harry placed over his body. He had just gathered enough of his thoughts to open his mouth and ask- when Harry abruptly flipped them over and reached behind Louis’ head to rummage a hand in the bedside drawer. When he pressed a cool tube and a single foil packet into Louis’ hand, Louis had to wonder at the uncanny ability of Harry’s mind to work seemingly in unison with his own; besides the odd half-formed name or curse, neither had spoken a word since they had entered the bedroom.

He spoke now, though; it came out throaty and hoarse – deep with desire and rough from his earlier activities.

“On your stomach.”

Harry’s eyes were nothing but pupil by that point; only the slightest sliver of green lined the edges, sending a jolt straight through Louis’ stomach as Harry nodded and rolled himself away from Louis.

By then Louis was past sick of waiting to fuck Harry. He refused to be anything but thorough in opening Harry up, in making him moan and grind his hips down in an effort to get some friction against his dick; but he also didn’t drag it out any longer than absolutely necessary, resisting the urge to bottom out in one deep thrust the moment Harry began begging for Louis to hurry up and get inside him already.

Once he was sure Harry was used to the feeling of him, Louis quickly built up to a driving pace; enough to make Harry yell out in a combination of pleasure and pain as Louis found just the right angle to thrust in at. Louis watched in fascination as the muscles in Harry’s back moved just beneath the skin as he arched beneath Louis’ hands; he had noticed all night – hinted at under his thin shirt in the way he danced, when he laughed, laid in plain view as he held the sheets in a death grip – his muscles rippled with an animalistic energy, as if aching to tear the boy apart.

He reached an arm around Harry to stroke him in time with his own rhythm, the other hand pressing indents into Harry’s hip as Louis kept himself steady. It didn’t take much longer before Harry spilled hot into Louis’ fist, clenching down tight on Louis, who stuttered only slightly before continuing to slam into him. Having worked him through his orgasm, Louis panted out to a still-moaning Harry, “I need…your face.”

He manoeuvred their bodies around so that they were once more face to face; and Louis could see how flushed and satiated Harry was, could tell every time he drove back into him just how overstimulated he was right now. But it was the way that, as exhausted as he might have been, Harry kept his eyes open, stared right into Louis – who felt as if he was drowning in the endless green looking up at him – that sent him over the edge, thrusting erratically a few final times before he collapsed forward, face instinctually searching for the safe place tucked between Harry’s shoulder and neck.

When he had regained enough energy to be bothered with it, Harry had clambered out from under Louis and cleaned them up somewhat. But he made no indication of wanting to kick Louis out of the flat just then, and Louis was more than comfy in his sleepy afterglow and the warmth of Harry’s bed. So he made no objection when Harry returned from the bathroom and climbed back into the bed, rearranging Louis’ limbs to wrap loosely around his waist, legs tangled together.

Harry drifted off almost immediately; at the angle Louis was lying at he could see just enough of Harry’s face to see it relax into a peaceful slumber, a small smile tweaking his lips at the corners. Behind Louis’ own eyelids he could still see Harry’s wide-open eyes staring back at him and it sent shudders of both excitement and what he could only describe as fear shooting through him, although he attempted to smother them so as not to disturb Harry.

Louis couldn’t help but recall the feeling, just before he had come, of drowning in those eyes; drowning in Harry. It would be as instinctual as breathing, he could feel that; had felt it to some extent since that first moment. But it would also be a suicide; overpowering and world ending, life as he knew it gone for good.

The question was, did he care? Was it worth it for this?

Wrapped around the long limbed body next to him, feeling the movement of Harry’s inhale accompanying his exhale, Louis’ only thought was yeah, for that moment it was.

It was just one night. With the boy with the green eyes.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so that happened. And it was sort of supposed to just be a oneshot but then things happened in my brain so if you liked it, let me know what you'd think of the idea of potentially writing more for this verse...
> 
> ALSO: Sorry because writing this has meant that I haven't been writing A Place to Rest (a note for those of you who read it). Hopefully it won't be too far away and I have the intention too of regardless of when the final chap goes up, I'm aiming to have the epilogue up too by next weekend before I go away for the better part of a fortnight. But hopefully this will appease you in the mean time <3


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